Pjs
by PropertyOfNegan77
Summary: This is about Negan and OC. This is my first fanfic in a while, and first one on Walking Dead. Currently complete, but could be added to if readers want. I own nothing, not Negan, the Walking Dead, or AMC.
1. Chapter 1

PJs

It was nearly midnight when you heard a low creak come from the pantry door. You grabbed a frying pan and headed toward the offending sound.

At that moment in time you really wished you had not agreed to stay after dinner to clean up. You'd only been at the compound around two months and felt the need to impress your co-workers by sacrificing yourself for clean-up. You had quickly risen in the kitchen so that only one person held a position higher than you did.

As you edged closer, you raised the pan higher. Something fell inside the pantry and it was quickly followed by a bellowed, "Shit!" You froze.

The last time you had heard that voice was the first day at the compound. It's gruff, baritone sound had been oddly relaxing until you had been drug back to reality by its owner beating the holy hell out of your traveling partner. He had made a snarky remark about having his ass drug back to this "piece of shit compound."

You had saw him around the compound a few times before. He always wore a red scarf and a black leather jacket. Perched upon his shoulder was a barbed wire covered Louisville slugger. This weapon that he affectionately called Lucille had been the offending item that had ended Jake's life. You two hadn't been fucking, but you didn't want him to die. For Jake's sake, you vowed to hate the swagger man that was Negan.

To find him here in the pantry at such an odd hour left you shocked. You snuck a peek inside to see he had dropped a can on his foot. The offending item had been kicked across the floor to the opposite side of the room.

Suddenly you realized that the leader of the Saviors was clad only in a white t-shirt and a pair of whimsical pajama pants. They were hunter green and dotted with little huskies pulling sleds. His thick, black hair had been tousled, not slicked back like it usually was. Tucked up under his arm was a bag of chips, one of the last left and probably dreadfully stale, and some can of something. You thought of entering but thought better of it. Instead, you slinked back to the cabinet and placed the pan back in.

You were almost home free until you opened the door near the pantry to escape back to your room. The hinges emitted a metal on metal sound. The noise in the other room ceased. Soft footfalls headed to where you stood. You stood in silent horror, waiting to be punished. You chastised yourself for falling asleep on the job. You should have been gone hours ago, tucked away safely in your room.

In a last-ditch effort, you slide between the frame and the door before Negan reached his respective door. You lengthened your strides as you neared the stairs. Two flights up, on the third floor, you exited the stairwell and headed toward your humble abode.

Your room consisted of one decent sized room. A bed was the center piece of the room, framed by a book shelf, a dresser, and a night stand. The bed was a cramped twin decorated with a sheet and a quilt covered in whimsical flowers for the cold. This room had never seemed to comforting as it did once you were safely inside tonight. The whole idea of speaking to Negan in such odd circumstances was not inviting.

You changed into your own sleeping wear and wondered why he had been down there. You were pretty sure he kept the best for himself. And, if he didn't, why did he come down in the middle of the night instead of sending Fat Joseph?

You hadn't told a soul about your weird encounter. When asked to take the graveyard shift a few weeks later, you complied without hesitation. Negan had visited the kitchen multiple times since that fateful night. Many of the other women had hinted he had starred at your ass a little longer than normal as you went about your duties. He'd made a few crude remarks here and there, but you still hadn't had a real conversation with him.

You were about to finish up your shift when you heard an eerie whistle. Seconds later, the kitchen door was pushed open by the end of a baseball bat.

"Well, isn't this a fan-fucking-tastic surprise," he chuckled.

He eyed you for a second, waiting for you to kneel before him, but you didn't. You'd never understood why anyone kneeled before him. Perhaps you didn't because you vividly remembered the way he had murdered Jake.

"Nice to see you down here tonight Mr. Negan. Anything I can do before you before I retire back to my quarters?"

"I can think of 69 things…," he trailed off as he noticed I was looking him up and down. He wore his same attire as the last meeting. Nothing was left to the imagination. His broad shoulders strained at the flimsy t-shirt. He also filled out his pants, in the ass and the crotch. Yes, he was a mean son of a bitch but, damn he was sexy. Though you were his junior by several years, you couldn't deny he was attractive.

You bit your lip and responded as cordially as possible. "Other than that, can I do anything for you, sir?"

"You could marry me."

"Why the hell would I do that?" you nearly shouted. He ignored your sudden outburst.

"Come on, don't tell me you don't want to fuck this? I saw the way you were admiring me. You could have part in this. Live a life of luxury like the other broods."

You turned red. He had noticed the way you had been looking at him.

"Hell, you got a better ass and tits than the others…"

There was that. You could not stand to be one of many. This made the blood in your veins run cold. None of them loved him, they used him for sex and an easy lifestyle.

"Thanks for the option, but I'll pass."

With this, you flipped your hair, and stalked out of the kitchen.

You had to admit, you'd thought his proposition over more than you would have liked to. He was handsome, but a jerk. You could live like a queen, but would be mocked. The thought of being one of a larger number disgusted you. No, you would never become his wife. Now, the thought using him for your own pleasure, that sounded like something you could do. You had an itch that he was very willing to scratch. So, you made your mind up, the next time he offered, you'd throw his game off and accept.

Your opportunity came quicker than even you had expected. The next night in fact. You were walking up the stairs to your room when you meet him coming down the stairs from God knows where. He had that devilish smirk on his face that you had grown to find attractive. He showed his perfectly white and straight teeth in a grin as he exclaimed, "Ready to take me up on my offer?"

"Which one?" This statement alone threw him off of his game.

"You going to take me up on either one?"

"If you ask nicely enough, I might." This was a huge turn on for him. His tawny eyes turned a shade darker. You could see the hesitation in his face before he asked his question.

"Would you _please_ consider having a delightful evening in the sack with me?" He said this with such a sincerity that you couldn't help but fall to the floor, dying with laughter. He did not look amused. His scowl told you to shut up, but you couldn't.

Once you had regained your breath, you stood up, brushed yourself off and smiled at him.

"Let's get going! I don't have all night."

You looked at him expectantly. He finally turned and headed in the direction you had been going in. Once at the top of the stairs he mumbled "Fuck it."

He abruptly turned to face you and wrapped his strong, leather covered fingers around your waist. He bent down and kissed you. Hard. You readily opened your mouth to allow him access. He tasted faintly of whiskey. Your nostrils were assaulted the smell of leather. You were intoxicated with the way his soft lips moved against yours.

As he continued his assault on your lips, he backed you up into the wall. He placed his left hand next to your head and wrapped his right around your waist. Your arms found themselves wrapping around his neck. He suddenly dropped his wicked mouth to your throat. A gasp escaped your throat. The way he nipped and sucked along your neck caused a suddenly unbearable heat in your lower half. You were affecting him the same way; you could feel his denim clad erection pressing into your thigh. Before you could stop yourself, you ground into him, eliciting a gravely groan.

Negan suddenly stopped and began to head toward your room. You trotted after him, surprised to see that he had a massive key ring that had a key to your room on it. The two of you had barely got in the room when Negan pushed you back up against the door. He made quick work of your shirt and bra. Your nipples stood at attention when he pulled your shirt off. He took his time with each rosy bud. Your hands roved across his body, exploring. He didn't seem to mind.

Before you realized it, you were being laid across your bed. Negan roughly pulled your pants down your toned legs and off in one swift move. You sat up and pulled at the hem of his shirt, displeased he was still clothed.

"Calm the fuck down, doll. I'm not leavin'." He said this with that arrogant smirk on his face, but you could see how much he wanted between your legs. He slipped it off and began unbuckling his belt. His pants slid down his thighs and were quickly kicked off. Your own thighs were covered in your desire. His impressive erection strained at his boxers.

You surprise him by reaching forward and removing his boxers. Man, was he impressive. He was by far the largest you had ever seen. Precum beaded his tip. Much to his surprise, you began to suck his cock.

He threw his head back and moaned as you set up a slow pace. His hand knotted into your hair, begging you to take him deeper.

You found yourself lying on your back, and your panties being ripped off. You felt his stubble along your thighs. Quickly he placed his mouth over your sensitive clit. He was sucking his way to your nirvana when he pushed to fingers up to the knuckles in you. You gasped at this intrusion. You heard him chuckle against your clit. His tongue also became an intrusion. Within three minutes, he had you withering under him, calling his name, while he was three knuckles deep in you, sucking you for all he was worth.

Embarrassment flooded over you when you came in his face. This faded when he lapped up all of your juices. His beard glistened with your desire. He crawled up your body and gave you a taste of yourself.

"Hell, I figured you were hard up, but I didn't think you'd cum all over me that fucking fast. Are you ready?" He said this with a hint of neediness. His hips were positioned over your entrance.

Your answer was a breathy yes. He slowly slid into you, his eyes closing shut for a few seconds. Negan gave you a second to adjust to his length and width He set up a brutal pace. He slowly slid out, then snapped his dick back into you. A hand fell to your clit and he began to rub, hard. Your whimpers were drowned out by his grunts. Within minutes, you felt your second orgasm approaching. Always the gentlemen, Negan made damn sure you finished before he did.

A stream of explicatives escaped your lips as your walls contracted. You were milking him for all he was worth, when he came. This pushed your orgasm to a whole new level. When your vision returned to normal, you saw that Cheshire cat grin on his face again.

"Told you I was fucking great in the sack. Wanna marry me yet so you have access to this all the time?"


	2. Ruined Panties

"Marry you?" A laugh escaped your lips as he frowned down at you. His mood had been playful, but you had ruined that with your laugh. You had thought he had been joking but, apparently not.

"You can't be fucking serious. You already have a damn room full."

"But, I don't have you doll. You can't tell me you like that shitty kitchen job." A smirk settled on his face as he said this. His huge frame looked odd lounging in your little bed. His head rested on his palm as he looked you over unashamedly. You could see the little muscles rippling under the skin over his jaw. His biceps flexed ever so slightly, causing his gun tattoo to dance.

You sighed. The sex was fantastic. But marriage was still a little much. In a fluid movement, you slid off of your bed and began to get dressed. Seconds later, the bed creaked as a heavy weight shifted off the bed. You turned around in time to see his toned calves and ass. His rippling shoulders and strong back disappeared under his white t-shirt. Within minutes both of you were fully dressed again.

"Remember my offer sweetheart. I certainly hope that won't be the last damn time we fuck. I'd never deny a lady in need, you know where I am." With that, he slipped out of the room.

Damn him! You had managed to go the entire goddamned zombie apocalypse without sex, but now it was the only thing on your mind. You had wet dreams nearly every night. Your thighs and walls clenched every time you saw the Saviors' fearless leader strutting around the compound. You desperately wanted to have a little freaky deaky but it had only been a week since your first encounter. It might seem a little pathetic if you began to beg now.

You were pulling the late shift again. Not as late as normal, but still late. The clock read 10 and you were just finishing the last dish, when you heard an eerie whistle. The door burst open seconds later and in swaggered the Savior himself. They group had recently returned and it sounded like they had done well.

"Well isn't this a pleasant fucking surprise. I was hoping for some dinner, but this is better. I've been meaning to talk to you all week. Care to join me in my office?" A spark of mischief ignited in his eye as he said the last part.

He turned on his heels and headed toward the stairs. You trotted along behind him, trying to keep up with his longer strides. By the time he reached his office door, you were slightly annoyed that he hadn't said a word the whole way here.

"Come on in, doll." As you walked through the door, you felt his eyes on your ass. The door clicked as he shut it behind you.

"I was expecting a booty call by now. I mean, with the way you were moaning my name, I thought I'd have been back by now."

"You've got your wives to deal with, you don't need another vagina to have to fuck." This statement got his attention.

"You don't think I can satisfy all my wives and you?" With that, he pushes you up against the wall and intends to prove you wrong. His weight and arms on either side of your head hold you firmly in place. His lips ravage your neck. You gasp when he places one gloved hand between your legs. He unbuttons and unzips your jeans in record time. Soon, your jeans and panties are on the ground.

"Shit!" he growled as he slid a finger in you. "If I'd have known you were this wet, I'd have spread you out over those damn tables and ate your pussy properly."

You clenched at the implication that he even considered going down on you. His second finger entering you snapped you back to reality. You pushed down on his hand as he was stroking up. Your nipples stood in attention as his hot breath brushed over the thin fabric that shielded them from the world. His erection brushed up against your leg and you grew even wetter, like that was possible.

You expected him to slid his own jeans down and pound into you until you could no longer think strait, but he didn't. No, he did something you were not fathoming.

In a blink of an eye, he had kneeled on one knee and draped your leg over his broad shoulder. He kissed and nipped his way up your inner thigh when he stopped and looked up at you.

"What do you say, doll?"

This was possibly the most infuriating thing he had ever done to you! How dare he look so arrogant. You whimper and shift your pussy closer to his sinful mouth. There was no way in hell you were going to beg.

"What do you fucking say, doll?" He had leaned back slightly and was paying your calf the attention something else should have been getting.

"Will you _please_ fuck my pussy until I cum?"

"Of course I will, you just had to ask." With this he turned his attention back to your center. You grab a handful of his black hair as he places his mouth over your mound. You realize he has inserted two fingers again as he thrusts into you. His tongue working on your clit is nearly too much. Your positive his scalp will hurt after this is over with the way you tug on him. He ignores this slight inconvenience and continues to suck and lick you like his life depends on it.

Within minutes you are seeing stars and screaming his name as he pushes you over the edge. At first your embarrassed by cumming all over his face, but this fades away as he laps up his prize. Removing his leg from his shoulder, he stands up. That same arrogant smirk on his face as before.

"I'd planned to get a bite to eat, but that my dear, was way fucking better than whatever is in the hellhole down there."

Another blush exploded over your face as you realized your panties were demolished and your jeans were soaked with your own juices. As if reading your mind, he walks out of the room and returns seconds later with those whimsical pajama pants.

"Put these on. It can't be said I don't take care of my lady friends." With this, he picks up the panties and puts them into his pocket. "These are mine now."


End file.
